Descent
by nicolettescarletti
Summary: Harleen Quinzel is a smart, young doctor working at Arkham Asylum. She has worked with supervillains such as Poison Ivy, and the Riddler. But when Bruce Wayne insists on having her take on the Joker, will she be up...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Dark, dangerous, foreboding. Arkham Asylum's appearance mirrored that of its patient's reputations. To the outside world it was sinister, but to Dr. Harleen Quinzel it was her life's passion, the place she went to care for those that society had cast aside. The one place she could make a difference.

As Dr. Quinzel got out of her car the sky opened up and a heavy downpour began. _Just another gloomy day in Gotham City_, she thought to herself. Sighing she opened the purple umbrella and rushed from her car into the asylum. Hoping she wouldn't get wet and have to spend the day in soggy clothes.

She wasn't even two steps into the main hall, when the bane of her existence appeared out of nowhere.

"Dr. Quinzel, Dr. Arkham wants to see you." Briggs Chandler snapped.

Harleen rolled her eyes. There was no one she despised in the Asylum more than Briggs. After turning down his advances for six months one would think he would give up already. But it was the exact opposite.

Most days the guard was easy to avoid, she would just sneak in when he was making his rounds. Today though, the traffic had been heavy and she had arrived later than she normally did.

She made her way to the elevator and pushed the button, the doors sliding open. She knew he wouldn't miss the chance to ride up with her. As the door slide closed Briggs stood as close to her as possible, his stale body order making her want to throw up.

As always when they were alone together he began to touch her hair. Right on cue he opened his mouth and began his seduction. Though Harleen wanted to tell him, he couldn't seduce her if he was thirty years younger and not forty lbs over weight.

"You know...I've always wondered what you would taste like."

Turning Harleen gives him the sweetest smile she could muster and ran her fingers up and down the middle of his chest. "And what did you come up with in all those hours of contemplation?"

Briggs took a deep inhale of her shampoo, "Like sugar."

Harleen drove the heel of her palm into his solar plexus. Briggs dropped to his knees with a grunt.

She towered over him, "Too bad your momma never told you sweets can be bad for you."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. It was a shame because she would have liked to kick the old vulture in his balls. Harleen stepped out into the darkly lit hallway of the asylum's top floor, a smile painting her pink lips. One asshat down, one to go, she thought to herself.

She didn't even look back as she made her way to Dr. Arkham's office. All the while Harleen wondered what he could want with her first thing on a Monday morning. With Dr. Arkham one never knew what to expect, he was as unpredictable as the inmates they housed.

Raising her hand Harleen knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Stealing herself for whatever nonsense her boss was going to hand her, Harleen pushed the door open. She glanced around the office and wondered to herself how he could spend all of his time in such a dismal setting. Harleen thought maybe the doctor had head issues. God only knew with her upbringing she had enough of her own.

Dr. Arkham looked up from the files before him, giving the young woman the once over. "Good morning, Dr. Quinzel. Please take a seat."

He gestured to the seat before his desk. _Wonderful_, Harleen thought, _the hot seat_. It was rumored that this is where he made employees sit when he was getting ready to sack them. In the six months she had been here she had seen many doctors and nurses come and go.

Dr. Arkham watched as his young protégée smoothed down her skirt and sat back in the chair. She crossed her legs and placed her folded hands on her knee, waiting patiently for him to get on with the show.

He couldn't help but smile wide. Most of his _hot seat_ victims would sit precariously on the edge, just waiting for him to strike. Not Dr. Quinzel, she just sat there as if this was any other social gathering.

"I am sure you're wondering why I called you here." He eyed her, watching for something to give her away.

Harleen was on to him. Dr. Arkham wanted her to squirm. She was the first female doctor that Arkham had and he wanted to see if she was up to the task. They had done this dance on their first meeting and every other since.

She held his gaze, "I'm sure you have a good reason to pull me away from my patients."

_No fear, good_...he mentally praised her. She was going to need that kinda backbone to face the lion he was about to throw her to. And if this meeting continued the course it was on, he would defiantly be sending her in to collect the information, he himself could not.

Tapping his fingers against the file before him, Dr. Arkham continued. "Dr. Quinzel, your grades are what got you hired. Impressive for the spoiled little rich girl I was told you were. At one point I had wondered what you did for those grades."

Harleen took his backhanded compliment in stride. He was posturing. Trying to make her feel as if the only way she could get through medical school was on her back.

All she did was smile and nod. There was no need to rise to his bait. Harleen would bide her time and see where he was going with this. If Dr. Arkham planned to get out of line like Briggs had she would just have to handle him in the same fashion.

When he realized he wouldn't get a rise out of her, he continued. "Then I realized something, you are the youngest woman to ever become a psychiatrists. Meaning you were too young to get through school any other way than through hard work."

_Damn straight dickhead_, she thought.

Still no reaction. Dr. Arkham was slightly uncomfortable by the way she just kept smiling and nodding along to what he was saying. He had thought this meeting would test her worth, in dealing with Arkham's most infamous inmate. But he was beginning to realize it was testing his ability to push her buttons.

"So I hired you to see just what all the fuss was about. You're a very bright woman. Mensa member from the age of 12. Finished High school at 15. Took four years of college and finished in 2. Need I go on?"

Harleen unclasped her hands and began to examine her nails, "Not really, Dr. Arkham. I accomplished all of it so I don't need a recap."

Now she turned her blue gaze towards him, "I do know that we aren't here to discuss my a lustrous schooling. So let's get to the point… will I be making my rounds today, our cleaning out my desk?"

He barked a laugh at the audacity she had to call him out on his shit. Oh yes, Dr. Harleen Quinzel would have no trouble facing her new patient.

"Your job is secure. Though you will not be making rounds today. Instead I want you to spend the day going over the file of your new charge."

With that he pushed the overstuffed folder towards her. He watched as her brow rose in curiosity. That was what drew him to Dr. Quinzel in the first place. It wasn't her grades, or that he had hoped to acquire the youngest female in his profession. It was her childlike innocence in the face of such madness. Her stark desire to make a difference in the lives of the criminals they housed.

Harleen pulled the file towards her and fingered the tab at the top. There in the bold handwriting of her boss was, The Joker.

_Holy Shit_, she thought. There was no way this could be happening. Should she pinch herself? Looking up from the file towards Dr. Arkham, Harleen realized that would be a bad idea.

He sat there studying her, like a cat does a mouse. Waiting for her to prove she wasn't ready to take on Arkham's most notorious inmate.

"Dr. Arkham, what is the meaning of this?" She tapped the file with one blood red nail.

He had to be jesting. Or trying to see if she would refuse to help an inmate if they seemed too troublesome.

"In the last few months you have proved your worth to our team." He paused and watched for a reaction, but still got none.

Standing he came around his desk and sat on the edge, towering over her. This was a far better position, letting Dr. Quinzel know he was still the top dog. That it was by his whim that she was being granted such an opportunity.

"So, you're rewarding me?" Her smile was sly.

Dr. Arkham found himself wondering if he had been wrong before. Maybe this sweet and innocent act was just that. Maybe she had slept her way through school. Perhaps not for grades but just to see how far she could wrap a man around her finger.

He shook himself. After all what did he really care? All Dr. Arkham gave a shit about was finding out what made the Joker tick. He had a sneaking suspicion that Dr. Quinzel would be just the woman for the job. Then he would just sign his name to her papers and the credit for cracking the craziest badass in all of Gotham would be his.

"Let's just say that this is another test." He pushed off the desk and paced over to his window. "If you can handle him…you can handle anyone."

Harleen rose from her seat, the file in hand. "I'm more than up to the challenge." She headed towards the door. "I'm just going to get right on this."

Dr. Arkham didn't turn from his position at the window. "You see that you do that, Dr. Quinzel."


	2. Chapter 2

Popping open a can of grape soda, Harleen sat with the file before her. This was it, the defining moment of her career and she was only six months into her profession. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would get this far this fast. Now that she had the toughest inmate in Arkham within her grasp Harleen wondered what she had gotten herself into.

Sure with her other patients she could pretend that she wasn't all sorts of fucked up herself. Though Harleen doubted she would be able to hide her dark side from the man most people likened to the devil himself. The Joker would see right though the well erected façade of Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Right down into the scared, abused little girl she once was.

Tapping her nails against the file, she tried to find a rhythm that eased her nerves. It wasn't him seeing her darkness that had her worried, or at least she tried to tell herself that. Instead claiming it was not being able to see her other patients today that had her upset. One day could set back all the progress she had made with Pamela Isley.

Harleen had finally gotten the women who referred to herself as Poison Ivy to open up. To trust her enough to let her see the vulnerable little girl locked inside the women who took no shit. Allowing her to see that side of her patient that Harleen knew Pam kept hidden from the world. Now this could set them way back.

It could be months before Pam even let her get that close again. There was no way she was going to let five months of progress fly out the window because Dr. Arkham thought she needed to study the Joker's case file all day. She had seen enough of the shit he pulled all over the news to know exactly what she was getting into.

Though she was resigned to give his file a cursory glance. Harleen liked to know as little about her patients as possible. In the case of The Joker she would limit what she knew to just the facts on his rap sheet. Harleen didn't really care what other doctors had to say about him. She would form her own conclusion through their sessions.

"I'll just read the basics and see Pam after lunch."Just like that it was settled.

Flipping open the file Harleen felt the air rush out if her lungs. The pages on top weren't The Joker's arrest sheet but the image of a badly disfigured body. One of the Joker's many victims she was sure.

Dr. Arkham did that shit on purpose. He was still trying to test her and it pissed her off. Though she wanted to strangle her boss, she couldn't help but sit transfixed by the image before her. She had never seen someone so bloody and broken in her entire life.

Holding it up she tried to make out just who the person was before the Joker had gotten a hold of him. There was nothing human looking about the heap on the floor. The only thing that gave away that this had once been a man was the finely tailored suit it wore.

Slowly she examined the rest of the image. Holding it under her desk lap Harleen was able to make out the marble floor and two overturned chairs. The initials on their backs were LC. The fucking Lupinacchi Club, no way. Joker had beef with these guys and walked away? He was definitely more of a badass than she had first assumed.

Without warning a memory overwhelmed her and she was that cowering 14 year old all over again.

_"Come on Harleen, we don't want to keep Mario or Jimmy waiting." Her mother called up the steps. _

_She cowered behind her bedroom door. Harleen hoped that the little lock would keep her mother from getting to her._

_There was no way she was going to the club tonight. Not after what they had done to her three nights ago. Harleen did not want a repeat of the lesson Mario and his son had given her. _

_The footsteps in the hallway should have propelled Harleen into action, should have had her climbing out the window, or jumping out, whichever would have kept her safe. But her fear had her rooted to the spot. Her mother charged into the room making the door bang off the wall. _

_Grabbing Harleen by the arm she began to drag her from the room. "You ungrateful little bitch. Mario pays well for the service you are providing for his son. Jimmy especially likes you."_

_The thought of Jimmy being anywhere near her, sent the young girl into a fit of hysterics. Harleen could feel his hands tugging at her hair as he forced himself down her throat. How he had forced her to suck what she hadn't swallowed off his fingers._

_No, she couldn't go through that again. She would have rather been beaten by her mother._

_Tugging on her arm she tries to get free, but her mother only holds her tighter. They struggle back and forth, Linda overpowering the younger Harleen. Effectively dragging her down the stairs and out of the house. _

_"Let go." Harleen redoubled her efforts as she spots the limo idling in their driveway. Its back door open and Jimmy leaning out leering at her. _

_Not one to suffer disobedience from her daughter, Linda smacked her hard across her face. Then yanked her to a stop before the limo. Jimmy was already reaching for her. _

_"Listen you little bitch, if Mario tells me you gave him or Jimmy a hard time, you are going to beg for mercy before you ever see it."_

_As she was being yanked into the backseat, Harleen turned to look at her mother. "One day you are going to pay."_

_Linda patted her hard on the cheek she had slapped causing Harleen to wince. "Whatever helps you when you're on your knees, slut." _

_Jimmy's laughter fills her head and Harleen knows there is nothing she can do to fight these animals that hold her life in their hands._

With a harsh gasp Harleen pulled herself from the cesspool of her memories. A lone tear slipped down her cheek, and she let it. Hoping that it would cleanse the raging pain and hatred she felt from her soul for her abusers.

She had fought long and hard to overcome the scared little girl she had been back then. Going so far as to take self-defense classes. Promising herself that the next guy to touch her would do so by her choosing. But she had been lying to herself because all it took was one image and she was that scared teenager all over again.

Harleen steeled her nerves and gazed at the image once more, noticing the ring on the victim's finger. Absentmindedly her hand went to her left leg and traced the scar through her thigh highs.

On the night of her sixteenth birthday she had once again been sent to Jimmy, but this time she was ready. When he had pulled her close she used the momentum to add power to the punch she threw. Her fist connected with his face and broke his nose.

Jimmy flew into a fit of rage. He had one of his men bring him a blowtorch and another hold Harleen down. After his ring was good and hot he had pressed it against her skin. All these years later Harleen could still smell the burning scent of her own flesh.

It had taken her weeks to recover, and even longer for the creams the doctor had given her to fade the mark to nothing but a shadowy scar. Now it was only slightly raised and she could pass it off as another old scar. Unless a lover was perceptive he would never make the connection, for that she was happy.

Seeing what The Joker had done to Jimmy brought a surge of relief to her. As if he had been the hero she had waited for her whole life. The man she had daydreamed about while she was on her knees before Jimmy. Whacking a scumbag like Jimmy Lupinacchi kept the streets safe for other young girls.

Though Harleen wasn't fool enough to think that the Joker was one of the good guys. Not a knight in shining armor, he wasn't even a vigilante like Batman. But he had taken out a man more vile in her eyes than he could ever be.

Batsy should have been happy for the help the Joker was giving him. After all, if the bad guys were taking each other out, it was less work for him and the GCPD. Instead he had manhandled the Joker so bad during his last take down that they kept him in the hospital for three weeks before releasing him to Arkham.

Shaking her head Harleen reprimanded herself. "Stop making him sound like a hero. The Joker is a sick man who kills as many innocent people as he does criminals."

Yep, and she needed to stop talking to herself. Harleen gazed at the clock, noticing that it was well after lunch. Closing the file on the Clown Prince of Gotham she stood and grabbed Pam's chart.

Harleen tried to steady her nerves as she headed towards her private session room. Moving toward the intercom she pushed aside the scared young woman she once was and put on her Dr. Quinzel persona. Then she told the guard to bring Pam in for her session.

A/N: For the rest of this story please visit my wattpad account NicoleDonovan7


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Please note I update this faster on Wattpad my account is NicoleDonovan7

Chapter 3

Three days had passed since Dr. Arkham had assigned the Joker to her. Harleen wasn't to have her first session with him until Friday. For that she was thankful. It at least gave her time to rearrange her sessions with the other patients she cared for.

Ever since she had seen the images in his file nightmares plagued her. Each night she was forced to relive her time under Jimmy's thumb. Her head was foggy with lack of sleep. She just wanted to get today over with so she could go home and have a drink. Maybe that would help her find some kind of escape from the nightmares.

The sound of her office door opening snapped Dr. Quinzel out of the ether of her memories. Briggs ushered in Pamela and shoved her into the seat opposite Harleen.

_Just fucking wonderful, another douchebag who liked to manhandle women._

"Take it easy, Briggs, or I'm going to have a talk with Dr. Arkham." Dr. Quinzel hissed.

Pam let the doctor defend her even as she plotted ways to make man who still had his hands on her suffer. She would take great pleasure in making the animal scream the same way he made so many of her fellow inmates.

Briggs squeezed Pam's shoulders harder, eyeing Harleen the whole time. "Bad bitches like it rough. Don't you, precious?"

Pam angled her head to glance at the guard from the corner of her eye, "Only when it's me beating the shit out of a pig like you."

Dr. Quinzel fought hard not to laugh at the slightly frightened look Pam's words caused Briggs. She knew she wasn't even going to mark down that Pam had threatened him. Not when Harleen was willing to turn Pam loose if he didn't stand down.

He recovered quickly and squeezed her one last time. "I have a feeling bath time is going to be fun."

Harleen stood and came around the desk. She poked the disgusting piece of shit in the shoulder to get her point across. "We don't threaten patients."

Briggs backed up and shot a hate filled smile in her direction. "I only threaten bitches who don't know their place."

Harleen stood her ground. There was no way he was going to treat anyone the way he was Pam. Not on her watch. She didn't give a rat's ass if she had to sleep in the asylum, to make sure he didn't touch another inmate ever again.

This shit with Briggs stopped now. "Dr. Arkham is going to hear about this. Now get out of my sight."

He left but not before he grumbled a few more threats. Harleen was sure she heard something along the lines of him kidnapping her and showing her who was boss. The vulture could try, but she would have his balls before he could even land the first shot.

_Skanky old bird._

Harleen wondered why the hell Dr. Arkham allowed someone like Briggs to work in the asylum. Then she realized that her boss didn't give two shits about the inmates. To him they were just criminals, and science experiments.

Harleen knew all about the electroshock therapy Dr. Arkham still used. A treatment that had been outlawed in most respectable places. She wondered what Batsy would do if he knew that Arkham Asylum didn't even try to rehab its inmates.

Whether the law was on her side or not, Harleen was going to do all she could to get these inmates better. Then she would gather all the evidence she could, and get them moved to someplace safe. Far away from touchy feely Briggs and shock happy Dr. Arkham.

As soon as Briggs was gone Dr. Quinzel eyed Pam. She moved forward and pulled her jumpsuit collar to the side. Exposing enough of her shoulder to see the bruises already forming there.

"Shit." She hissed. "I'm sorry."

Pam shrugged out of her grip. "Not as sorry as he is going to be if he doesn't watch his step."

Harleen had to agree with Pam. One day Briggs was going to underestimate the wrong person. She just hoped that fate was good enough to let her witness his comeuppance. Perhaps Pam would be there as well, and then they could laugh about it together.

She stepped behind Pam and unhooked her cuffs. Harleen hated to have the patients cuffed during their sessions. It kept them on edge, and closed mouthed. Besides Dr. Arkham had them so doped up they couldn't hurt a fly.

Pam rolled her wrists and her shoulders. Stretching her arms above her head to release the stiffness that being cuffed caused her. "Thanks, doc."

Harleen shot the woman a winning smile and Pam knew that in another life they could have been friends. Sitting around on a girl's night, pizza and wine between them. Maybe bitching about their boyfriends of the moment. Maybe sharing in some of the happier moments people with normal lives had. Now though, these conversations were mandatory and Pam felt cheated.

All through college and her master's program, Pam never had time for friends. The one time she had gone out on a limb and spoke to a co-worker, the woman had all but shunned her. That had been the first and last time Pam had tried to make a friend. She knew it was better to just pretend that the doc and her were chums.

"How are you doing today Pam?" Dr. Quinzel could not hide the fatigue in her voice.

The redhead cocked her head to the side and examined her. Something wasn't right. Dr. Quinzel was just as polished as always: nice suit, Wolfrod stockings, and Louboutin shoes. But there was less pep in her step so to speak.

"You sleeping ok, doc?"

Harleen looked up from the chart in front of her. She had been noting the incident with Briggs. But the concern in Pam's voice caused her to realize she wasn't hiding anything from her perceptive audience.

"I, ah..." Harleen took a deep breath and ran her hand through her blond hair. "No."

She liked to be as honest as possible when she spoke with her patients. Knowing that if she was they would feel comfortable enough to answer her questions just as honestly. Dr. Arkham told her it was nuts, she told him it was called trust building. And that it hadn't failed her yet.

"It shows." Harleen quirked a brown at the comment and Pam only smiled. "You normally aren't that snappy with Briggs."

"He is getting on my last nerve." Harleen hissed. "I would have thought bringing him to his knees on Monday would have been enough." She muttered to herself.

Though Pam was as observant as always and heard her. "So he did get his already." She chuckled. "Too bad I missed it. Tape it for me next time, would ya, doc?"

Harleen couldn't help but laugh at that. "If I get another chance I will. Now, let's pick up where we left off."

"Sure. Sure. Back to business as usual." Pam moved over to the couch and hopped up. Pulling her legs under her and resuming her normal position for therapy.

Of all the quacks she had ever seen in Arkham, Pam liked Dr. Quinzel the best. She allowed her patients to feel like normal people. Insisting that they made themselves comfortable and never referring to them as criminals. She knew that the doc actually cared about them, going so far as to wanting them to get better.

Pam felt bad that the doc would never get her wish with some of them. Knowing that inmates like The Scarecrow and The Joker embraced their crazy, like one would a lover. But she didn't have the heart to burst Dr. Quinzel's bubble.

Nope, she would let her favorite doc keep living in her fantasy world where all the nuts were one day cracked.

"So you had asked why I do what I do. You know doc, I gave it a lot of thought..."

Harleen sent her an encouraging smile. "Go ahead Pam, there's no one here to judge you."

Again she chuckled. The doctor wanted her to feel that way but she knew the truth. Of course Dr. Quinzel wouldn't judge her, but the creeps that headed this hell hole would. She could just see them reading the report the good doctor wrote up and laughing.

_Well fuck them._ Dr. Quinzel was good to her and she deserved honesty.

"I think it all stems from my R&D years. I was studying the effects people had on the environment around them. You know, working in a lab."

Harleen enjoyed the even cadence of the woman's voice. Wondering if that was part of her charm. If on top of her toxins it was how she led men to their deaths.

A shiver ran down Harleen's spine as she realized that Briggs was indeed lucky that she waited for him to leave to unlock Pam's cuffs. Or else he would have been a smear on the graying carpet.

"Then one night I was working late and Marc LeGrande comes strolling in. He chats me up about some ancient Egyptian herbs he wants to steal."

Harleen could see Pam struggling with the memories and felt bad for her. Dealing with her own demons the past couple of days made her realize just what her patients went through on a day to day bases.

She leaned over and pulled a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge. Holding it out to Pam she said, "Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

"You got other patients, doc. I'm sure they ain't willing to wait while I have a mental breakdown." She scoffed.

Nodding Harleen gestured for her to continue when she was ready. Swigging the water Pam went on, "So he tells me that it's a simple job. We get in we get out. No one will ever know the difference."

Harleen is watching her as she speaks. That's another thing about the doc Pam likes. She didn't sit there jotting notes or half baked theories as you spilled your guts. She actually listened and that made it easy for Pam to tell her story.

"So it's like he said. But LeGrande gets nervous and decides I could be a liability. So he uses the herbs we just stole to poison me. Three days later I'm waking up in a hospital and that's my story."

"So that's it? One guy is an asshat and you decide to become a terrorist?"

The reproach in Dr. Quinzel's voice made Pam shift in her seat uncomfortably. Hell, if she didn't feel like the bad girl before the principal. For the first time in years she felt the need to explain herself better.

"No. I realized that there were some people in this world that abused their power. Not giving a shit who or what they destroyed to get what they wanted."

Harleen smiled at Pam, like a mother does a small child. "So you became a champion for the weak?"

"Damn straight I did." Pam nodded in agreement.

"But not people. They were never on your list of species to save." Dr. Quinzel tapped her pen against her pad.

Briggs chose that moment to walk in. "Ok precious, time to go back to your cage."

Pam stood up and held out her hands. Harleen cuffed her, making sure they weren't as tight as they had been when she was brought in.

She smiled at the doc as she walked with them to the door. "It's cretins like him that make me love plants."

Harleen couldn't hold the laugh in. Her soft giggles echoing off the wall, only to be met by the mad cackle of The Joker. He was being led down the hall on a stretcher. Briggs pushed both women behind him as the orderlies passed by with the gurney.

She watched as they wheeled him past. Harleen's gaze taking in the red marks on his temples. Red hot anger coursed through her and she shoved passed Briggs' oversized body.

Marching up to the orderlies, "Stop right there."

"What do you want doc?" One of the newer orderlies sneered.

"I want to know what the hell you are doing to my patient." She pulls her pen light out and leans over to check his pupils.

The Joker stops laughing and looks into the doctor's eyes. He wonders if they had given him too much juice this time. Because there is no way someone that looked like her could work in this hell mouth.

"Fuck, I've died and this must be heaven. Cause ain't no way an angel like you would visit hell."

Harleen giggled. "Good to know you are ok." After patting his arm she turned to glare at the orderlies, "Who ordered this treatment?"

"Dr. Arkham. He wanted him to be docile for your first session tomorrow."

_What an ass_, she thought. To even think that she couldn't handle The Joker. She wasn't going to let the man out of his straight jacket during the first session after all.

"Let Dr. Arkham know that the next time he decides to issue treatment to a patient under my care he needs to pass it through me first."

Harleen turns her gaze back to the Joker and noticed that he is grinning like the cat that ate the cream. She sighed realizing he would be fine as soon as the effects of his shock therapy wore off.

Briggs moved passed her and slapped her on the ass. "She's a feisty one boys. Don't turn your backs."

Harleen heard a deep growl emanate from the man strapped to the gurney and she realized that now Briggs had two very dangerous people gunning for him. If Pam didn't poison him, the Joker might torture him to death. Yep, it was just another day at the asylum.


End file.
